In those foggy moments before the alarm rings and consciousness reminds me of the day ahead, I listen hard for soul whispers. It is often in the early morning when the meditations of my heart remind me I am not alone. The treasure of Psalm 127:2 becomes reality, “God gives to his beloved even in his sleep.”
A gift. A divine murmur to remind me all is well. Such a moment happened in a recent morning as I heard a voice call my name. It was a female voice, so perhaps its source was the nurturing comfort of the Divine Trinity’s feminine side. Or maybe an angel assigned to take care of me. Perhaps a sweet relative who has passed to glory.
Although I could not identify its owner, I knew it was no one in the realm of earth’s present. Rather, it was a voice from eternity.
Then a touch, a stroke of my hair and the assurance of being loved — completely and forever adored by the Divine One. The rest of my day filtered through that comforting feeling of being surrounded by God’s love.
How can this happen — when eternity interrupts our life on earth and makes itself so very known we cannot ignore or deny its presence? Is it those moments when God knows we need more than just a Bible verse to underscore Emanuel with us? Does God long to remind us that eternity’s reality is not so far away?
We think of heaven as an ethereal universe far beyond our own galaxy, but what if it is all around us? What if we are separated only by a thin curtain between the physical and spiritual worlds? What if God is always reaching out to us, to give a hug or stroke a fevered forehead and we’re just too focused on the ‘now’ to realize he is there?
This was not the first time eternity chose to visit. A few years ago, I received word that a good friend was involved in a motorcycle accident. No helmet. Brain damage. The intensive care unit with beeping machines.
I prayed throughout the night, then somehow knew Elliott had crossed over. The final phone call was no surprise. Tears yet joy for the assurance that death’s sting was swallowed in victory.
Then two days later, suddenly Elliott stood in my hallway. A gentle smile on his face, he wore the cowboy lariat necklace so popular in New Mexico — a coral stone set in silver, the black leather strap.
No words exchanged, but I knew he was thanking me for my prayers. And it was a token from eternity that he was all right, would always and forever be okay. Then he was gone. Again.
How thin is that veil between this world and the next? It cannot be measured by our finite minds, but for me — its very transparency brings comfort.
Those we have lost are not lost at all. They are closer than we imagine — a great cloud of witnesses cheering us on. And right there, standing with them, is the Savior of our souls — this One who dares to love us in spite of who we are or what we have done.
So I listen hard for those divine whispers and hang on to the hope that maybe I’ll hear the same voice and feel that touch again.
God is, after all, just a whisper away.
©2026 RJ Thesman – All Rights Reserved
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Ruthie learns more about eternity and God with us in Seeking the Land of Grace. Available on Amazon.
Wow
Thanks for that ‘wow’ Evie. Blessings on you!
So meaningful. Of late I have reached out a couple times to people whose faces were in a dream the night just passed. asking if I may rejoice with them in something or pray for them regarding something.
Quick responses followed, one of which disclosed a very pressing concern. Each response conveyed warm gratitude. Thin spaces are, I’m confident, more real than we may imagine.
Love the phrase ‘thin spaces.’ Absolutely true!
One morning each week Diana and I have breakfast at The Pantry in Green Mountain Falls Colorado, just a few miles away from our retirement village in Colorado Springs. One of the wait staff there is a young woman named Emily. She is always full of good cheer and pleasant. Emily looks and acts much like a girl in my church youth group many decades ago. Mary was one of three sisters who lost their mother early, and endured the pain of having an alcoholic father. But together those three girls, with the help of God and each other, thrived and became more. Much more. Life goes on in wondrous ways if we are alert to the love of our maker (as this post declares) and the support available to us from the folks around us each day.
Being ‘alert to the love of our Maker’ – a good thought!
The idea of heaven being a thin curtain right next to us instead of some distant galaxy is a pretty powerful thought.
Yes – a comforting thought for those who are grieving.